Woods
by Tersa
Summary: It's interesting that when you take a vacation to get away from problems, you never really can get away.  LeonxAda, Post Resident Evil 4.  Please leave a review on your way out. :3  May have a second chapter at some point.


Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil, Leon Scott Kennedy (damn), Ada Wong, or any of the other mentioned characters from the Resident Evil games. Leon/Ada, both Ada and Leon's points of view.

To all who have supported my writing comeback, including my Leon and my Beta, Cameron. You rock.

"…_I thought I was a fool for no one, _

_oh baby, I'm a fool for you._

_You're the queen of the superficial, _

_How long before you tell the truth?"_

_Supermassive Black Hole, _Muse

No gunfire. Somehow, it seemed strange to wake up without the threat of being shot.

_It's odd what you can grow accustomed to. _

I pushed myself out of bed, forcing my muscles to go through my usual morning stretches despite the pain. _This damn shoulder should have healed by now. _I prodded the offending appendage. _Good thing the next month is a vacation and not a mission. This could slow me down, perhaps fatally. _

I padded to the cabins tiny kitchen, pulling out the makings of cold cereal, not willing to go to the effort to make anything warm. If I'd stayed closer to the main lodge, I could have gone there for something, but going without a few warm meals was a small price to pay to avoid people that inevitably wanted to be friendly and talk.

After I finished my cereal, I washed the bowl and set it out to dry, and then went about preparing my pack for the day.

On missions I barrel ahead at full speed, waking as early as possible and getting all done that I can in every moment. For my leisure, I do take the speed down a few notches, but I like to keep myself thinking and aware, either by purposely putting myself in situations that challenged my existing skills or attempting something entirely new.

I threw some protein bars and a jug of water in my backpack, followed by a purposely-vague map and a weather radio. Today, I was hiking, with no idea where I was going or when I'd be back. While I did like challenges, getting caught in a thunderstorm on a mountain did have a tendency to spoil my day, especially with no shelter or warning. I glanced out the window. The clouds were starting to break up, it seemed, but it didn't hurt to be cautious.

I set off north, picking my way through the woods and its occasionally gnarled undergrowth. The fresh breeze felt wonderful, and the fact that life went on all around me, untouched by missions, top-secret organizations, and turncoat government officials soothed my mind. Riotous calm was all around me, and according to the radio, the storm was supposed to roll in around sunset.

I paused to take a drink from my water jug and felt a sudden uneasy tightening in my chest. Someone was nearby. I didn't know why or how I knew someone without any sort of aural or visual cue, but it had saved my life on numerous occasions, I wasn't about to mistrust it now.

I slowly capped the jug, straining to hear anything and look for a good hiding place while appearing to be studying the scenery. I heard a twig snap a ways behind me. It could have been just another hiker or a camper, or it could have been a psychopath hired by the company I recently stole confidential data from. I strode forward a few steps and slid behind an ancient tree to wait for whomever it was to go by. It never hurt to be paranoid.

I listened intently. Whoever was approaching was larger than I, most likely male, and from the infrequency that I heard any sort of noise from his footsteps, had some sort of military training. The footsteps paused.

_Listening, no doubt. _I silently slid my gun out of its holster. _"Oh where oh where has my mark gone?" _I smirked. _You won't have me so easily. _

I waited, footsteps steadily advancing on my hiding place. When the man finally passed me, I immediately put my gun to the base of his skull.

"Drop your weapon!" I snarled, glancing at the self-defense knife in his hand. It seemed vaguely familiar; perhaps I'd seen one similar on a recent mission. "Drop it!"

He splayed his fingers, letting the blade fall to the dead leaves.

"Now turn around." I prodded him with the gun then backed up a few steps. "Who are you working for?"

"The United States government at last employ." He said. I nearly dropped the gun. Leon. It couldn't be. "No one recently. I'm just here to try and get away from being shot at, but apparently I came to the wrong place." He glanced over his shoulder. "How is it anytime we meet, you end up pointing a gun at me?"

"You should be happy. Anyone else I would have killed by now. People don't usually encounter me more than once." I purred. _Why is he here? He is one of the very reasons I needed to get away!_

"I am." He turned to face me and I felt something in my chest come loose with a sick snap. The wounds from Spain were gone, save a pale scar on his cheek. His grey-blue eyes were playful as ever, but maturity and caution replaced the naivety I remembered from our first meeting so long ago. "What are you doing in my woods, Kennedy?"

"Well, if you would point the gun somewhere other than at me, I'll happily tell you. I get nervous talking to a woman with a gun trained on me. The wrong turn of phrase and I could end up missing part of my anatomy." His eyes flicked to the gun and back to me. "What are _you _doing in _my _woods?"

"None of your business."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Why should I tell you if you won't tell me, Ada?"

"Vacation." I said, narrowing my eyes.

"If you're on vacation, why do you have a gun?"

My turn to raise an eyebrow. "Said the pot to the kettle. Do a better job of concealing your shoulder holster."

He shrugged. "Can't be too careful." Keeping his left hand where I could see it, he drew out a gun with the fingertips of his right and dropped the weapon to the earth. He glanced at my gun again. "Ada," I holstered my gun and he relaxed, and put his hands down. He studied me a few moments. I could physically _feel _his gaze, making my skin crawl in a delicious way. "You look as beautiful as ever."

"You're a fool, as always. Gather your arms and get out of my sight, Kennedy."

"God looks out for fools and children, or so they say." He scooped up the knife and gun.

I sighed and turned to return to my hike and get as far away from the American as possible, but he caught up with me in a few long strides.

"How often are you going to keep reappearing in my life like this."

"Says the individual that interrupted my hike. Trust me, Kennedy, it is only my own misfortune that lead to our meeting today." I replied, my tone dry.

Leon smiled. "I wouldn't say it was so unfortunate, It's supposed to storm later and all I have is a tent. You don't even look like you have that."

"We have both survived worse."

He stepped in front of me. "Ada, in Spain, in Raccoon, you always show up, toy with me, and leave."

"Drop it, Kennedy." I said, stepping around him only to have him block my path once again.

"The first time we meet, I think you die." He continued. "The second time, you nearly kill me with that damn jet ski stunt."

"Kennedy, I'm not giving you answers, no matter how much you irritate me."

"Ada—"

A deafening crack cut him off, followed by a roar of thunder.

"Kennedy, move!"

I dove to the side, clamping my nails into his jacket and dragging him with me as I went. We hit the ground in a roll, bounced, then slid to a stop in the dead leaves, Leon on top. The massive tree I hid behind earlier crashed to the ground where we had stood.

"Shit." Leon breathed.

While his eyes were glued to where we should have died, I had a chance to realize what I'd missed. A heavenly mixture of pine, leather, spices and musk filled my lungs, and a dull, deep ache reminded me precisely why I had to stay away from the American agent. I took a breath, trying to clear my head and settle my pulse, but that just brought Leon's scent deeper into my lungs, changing the ache to a hard throb. I had to shove him off just to keep myself in check.

"Sorry."

I shook my head, thankful for the cold rain that had started to fall. The chill brought me back to reality, and I stood. "You said you had shelter. Is it near here?"

"I just got in today." He jerked his thumb toward his backpack. "I haven't had time to set up yet."

_Perfect. _I scowled. "Follow me."

The trek to the cabin seemed twice as long as the trip out, mostly because I spend the entire time pushing knowledge of Leon and situations we'd faced together out of my mind. _The only sort of bond you had with him was one necessary for survival, nothing more. _I told myself sternly. _Quit thinking otherwise._

I glanced back at Leon. Despite being held at gunpoint and being drenched by the rain, he wasn't letting it distract him from taking in the scenery as though it had been a perfect day.

"Bird watching, Kennedy?"

"Sure, if you want to call it that. Never mind that I have no idea what most of them are called." He brushed wet strands of his bangs out of his eyes. "I just like listening to the quiet. It's a nice change from the soundtrack of politicians, gunfire, and general chaos I got used to in D.C while working for the President."

He said something else as well, but I didn't comprehend it. I was too focused on being able to hear his voice, basking in the glow of being around a man I didn't have to worry was going to put a knife between my shoulder blades at the first available instant. I sped up. I needed to get a solid door between he and I _now, _so I could sort out what the hell was wrong with me, why I was thinking about things I shouldn't. Things that weren't possible. Life without missions, having someone to talk to, not being alone.

I glanced at him again. _Of all the fantasies coming true. _

I near ran the rest of the way to the cabin, and as soon as I was inside, threw my bag down, barked instructions at Leon to close the door and stay in the living room, and quickly exited to the bedroom.

"He's a man. That's all! You've dealt with men before. You've been attracted to them before and ignored it." I told my reflection sternly after I'd changed into dry clothes. "You've used and abused plenty of men in the past. Why is this one different?" I glared at the woman in the mirror. "Pull yourself together."

I splashed my face with some cold water from the sink, but it didn't help. Every memory involving Leon was spiraling back into my consciousness, those where I thought I'd seen even the slightest chance he'd been attracted to me as irrationally as I was him and that we had a chance at something coming back the most clearly. Of near kisses, of being in his arms. How I'd saved his life in Raccoon, how he'd saved mine, how he was different from anyone I'd ever met.

"He's just a man." I repeated, exhaling in frustration. "God…" I hung my head. _Ada, what's happened to you? _

I threw another handful of cold water on my face, set my features, and carefully exited the bedroom.

Leon was just finishing stripping off his wet clothes when I padded into the hall to the living room, though I didn't realize it until he came into my field of vision wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, exposing rivers of sinew to turn my mind to even smaller pieces of rubble and to keep me rooted to the spot, staring like a fool, until he slipped a dry T-shirt on and turned around. It was the first time I'd ever been sad to see a piece of clothing go on.

"Ada, er," He coughed, thankfully too embarrassed to notice that I was ready to sink into the floor myself, "I thought you wouldn't be back for a while. Sorry."

"It's fine." I turned and strode to the kitchen, thankful for all the years of training to keep emotions out of body movements in high stress situations. However, it wasn't exactly meant for the sort of stress I was currently under, and my hands twitched and missed the cabinet handle, causing the handle to rattle and a round and bloody oath of American and Chinese swears I had learned years ago to rise in my throat.

Leon raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment on my fumble. "Thank you." Leon wasn't an idiot, far from it, and he spent enough time with me in combat situations to know that my nerves had to be shot if I misstepped. It was irritating how I could see the gears in his head turning, trying to figure out what rattled me. "For letting me come in. Electrocution and dying of hypothermia aren't high on my to do list, and you're preventing both by letting me stay. Thank you."

"Who said I'm letting you stay, Kennedy?" I said, yanking a box of cereal out of the cabinet.

That lopsided grin again. "It was implied by the fact you dragged me here after saving my life, then started to get out food." He glanced at the cereal and bowl I was getting out for myself. "However, it seems that I'll be eating like I did in college, if cereal's all we're having."

"If you have a problem, there are other things in the cabinet. I'm not making anything else."

The grin went to a smirk, and, I'll be damned, he actually started making something. From the looks of things, spaghetti.

I sat down at the tiny table the lodge had furnished the cabin with, and preceded to eat bits of fruity cereal while I tried to figure a way out of this mess.

I'd never been good with people and never _wanted_ to be. I was content working behind the scenes, never being seen, of being a wraith in the wind. I was. It was my body that wasn't. I wasn't miserable by any means, and I'd never truly felt the need for companionship outside of having the occasional goldfish. Yet somehow, my body would not quiet itself and be content like the rest of me. It had always ached for contact, from when perpetually solitary childhood to my reclusive life as adult. That was why it was always so easy to gain the trust of men through my womanly wiles and play the temptress. It wasn't exactly pleasurable, but it quieted the need to be with another human for a while.

It had always worked that way, right up to Raccoon. It was during that mission, running to that damn newbie cop, still so charmingly naïve, and being in almost constant close contact with someone I found attractive that wasn't just going to be a mark that did me in. _Stupidly naïve. _I corrected myself, glancing over my shoulder at Leon. He was actually somehow pulling together a meal from the contents of my near-bare cabinets. _It's thoughts like that that get you in trouble. _

I gazed out the window at the rain, thinking and nibbling, until I reached for my bowl and found it missing. By the time I'd turned, Leon had already put down a steaming bowl of noodles and tomatoes in front of me.

"Here," he said, pressing a fork into my hand, "Eat something that doesn't have a cartoon character on the box."

I scowled, which he either ignored or didn't notice, and he sat down in the chair across from me, turning it to face out the picture window. Apparently he was only partially on the physical plane as well. I nudged the noodles, and when nothing jumped out (why would it? What in hell's name has happened to my thought process?), took a bite. It certainly wasn't four star faire, and the tomatoes tasted like the can they came in, but it wasn't half bad, and certainly better than I'd had in the last few days of running, jumping, climbing trees and being stalked by psychopaths.

I studied the agent passively as we ate, carefully drinking each detail in. He hadn't changed much, if at all, since Spain. He wasn't covered in blood and gore, which was a definite improvement, but he looked the same on the surface. Our run-in with Saddler and the Grenados had been only a few months ago, which made it impressive that he chose to trust me after I'd left him stranded on a self-destructing island.

_It's not like he had much choice. Either stay here, in the woods, or walk the two miles to the main lodge._ I thought, tamping a logical lid on the warm feelings that Leon's trust produced. _I had just proved myself somewhat trustworthy; I saved him from being crushed. It makes sense. _I took another bite of the spaghetti concoction. _He's an agent, he's logical. If the alternative to reasonably safe shelter is weathering the elements and a dangerous hike through deserted woods, you stay put. _

I cleared my empty bowl from the table and washed it in the sink for lack of anything else to do, pausing once to glance back at the American agent. He had finished his meal long ago, but continued to gaze out the window, arms over his chest, face expressionless save a slight drawing together of the brows.

_Just pray he is still naïve as he once was, Ada, or too distracted to notice how much he's distracting you. _

I faltered a moment, watching him. His eyes were so distant, seeing not only through the glass, but the whole world in front of him. Cutting through the rain, the trees, and the sky to the heart of whatever concerned him, lost in concentration, just as he had been during the fight with Krauser in Spain, turning his normally grey-blue eyes to a dark slate-cobalt smolder.

"Ada, you okay?" Leon asked. I barely had enough time to drop the expression of "How the hell…?!" from my face before he turned his head. "You're looking at me strangely."

"Nothing, Kennedy." I walked over and took his empty bowl, then tossed it in the soapy dishpan with mine unceremoniously. "Go back to looking intently at my glass door. I think you almost won the staring contest you started with it."

"Ada, what are you really doing out here?"

"None of your business, soldier." I propped myself against the kitchen door, wearing a kittenish smile.

"I've never known you to show up anywhere I am when you're not on a mission, this time can't be any different." His eyes met mine, slowly lightening back to their original color. "Why are you here?"

"I'm not allowed a vacation, Kennedy?" I asked.

"I don't object to you having a vacation. I just don't think _you _would allow it."

I feigned a laugh. "You always manage to amuse, Kennedy. Go to bed, read a book. The rain won't stop for a while."

"Ada," Leon murmured as breezed through the kitchen doorway, "don't you think I know why you really let me stay here?"

I froze. I was barely out of the kitchen, in the hallway and out of his field of vision, and yet I could feel his eyes tearing holes on either side of my spine. I centered myself, summoning my resolve, willing my voice not to reveal anything. "What was that, Kennedy?"

"Nothing." He sighed. "Never mind."

_Shit!_

That made twice that night I was hiding in my room from someone I invited in.

"Shit shit shit shit _shit!" _I hissed, hurling a throw pillow at the headboard of my bed. "How can I be such a fool, letting my guard down? Everything goes to hell around that agent! He almost completely derailed both missions of mine that he was nearby for, and since he arrived too late to foul up this one, he's somehow messing with my mind!" I threw myself into a sitting position on my bed, fingers tangled in my hair, exasperated. "Damn you, Kennedy!"

I swore again when I caught sight of myself in the mirror.

I was acting like a woman. An irrational, emotionally unbalanced, nerve-wracked woman.

It wasn't that thinking and acting womanly was bad- in calculated doses, it could be incredibly useful. But this, the irrationality, the getting upset in dramatic fits over a _man- _this was not me. Ada Wong did not act like this; she had too much training, too much grace and finesse.

_What the hell happened to me in Spain? _

I'd kept Leon under close observation during the operation with Wesker to make sure he didn't interfere with our goal of getting the sample, keeping him under surveillance as much as possible without chance of discovery. It was a part of my mission. My job.

_But somewhere along the way, it stopped being work, didn't it?_

Studying Leon had been an education—I learned that the rookie cop I once knew had vanished, though he somehow retained a certain amount of warmth and openness despite his training as an agent. Even in the worst of situations he cracked jokes, usually to no one in particular simply to help cope with the hellish things he faced. He smiled easily—not the false mask I usually put on, a real smile, even if it was often tinted with bitterness or cynicism. He wasn't the most powerful agent or strongest, but he didn't need to be. He had needle precise intelligence and could change plans on a drop of hat and get whomever he needed to out, by whatever means necessary. He'd protected the President's daughter with his life and managed to keep her from becoming one of Saddler's puppets even when he was fighting off a parasite of his own, constantly grappling for control of his body, and then survived the painful extraction procedure.

He was handsome, ballsy, intelligent, had a certain annoying rose tint to his world, and had somehow weaseled his way into my emotional mess of scar tissue I called a heart, despite every wall and defense I'd put up.

"Shit."

Unfortunately, before I could sink into a puddle of disillusionment on the floor, there was a knock at the door. It dragged me out of my disbelief at my own denial abilities, and as I heard myself say to hold on, I threw on a robe, as the temperature of the room had seemed to drop twenty degrees.

Leon Scott Kennedy stood in my hallway, the bastard that had screwed me up this badly, and he had the nerve to look concerned and then ask about my well-being.

"Do I _look _fine, Kennedy?" I snapped, too irritated and mentally fuzzy to keep my temper in check. "Do I look like everything is all star shine and dumplings? I had a shitty mission and go months without a break, and the moment I have vacation, you show up, fucking up any chance of relaxation and restoration of clarity! Get the hell out of my cabin!"

"Ada—"

"Damn you, damn you and your kind all to hell!" I advanced, causing him to retreat a step. "How dare you show up in my life at all, I was fine!"

"Ada, what are you talking about?!" He asked.

"I was fine!"

I woke up from my tantrum after that, realizing from Leon's expression that he honestly had no idea what was wrong with me, sending a surge of relief through me so great that I started to laugh.

After that, things start to get fuzzy.

I had no memory of him taking me in his arms, no memory of his moving at all. All I knew was one moment I was having my nervous breakdown, the next I was tasting cinnamon, coffee—the essence of Leon, warm, spicy, and sweet.

I ran the fingers of one hand through his hair, the other finding its way to the small of his back to bring him closer. It all came back later as a memory from a dream… calling his name over and over again to be silenced with a comforting kiss, every need and want tended to, my mind lost as something else took over: The need to be with someone. The need to be there for someone.

Everything about him was something worthy of review over and over again. He a warm, tantalizing puzzle of sights and tastes, a wonderful collection of steel and satin, and I drank him in like healing ambrosia. Everything melted away—missions, ruined childhoods, pains, aches, and reason, leaving no inhibitions and nothing to hide.

I died in Leon's arms that night, never again to be who I was. Who I thought I was. His heartbeat mingled with mine, it fit so solidly and felt so _right_. When I woke up in his arms that next morning, I felt so safe that I wanted to weep. I was killing myself, risking life and limb at the cost of this? What was the matter with me? Who would make that trade?

Another thought struck me as I looked at Leon's sleeping form, however. If I gave up everything to be with him that would be changing the fabric of who I was. The fabric of me, the person that fell in love with him. If love is fickle and irrational, wouldn't changing me change how I felt about him as well? Would I come to resent him when I became restless? Or, worse… would he continue to care about _me_?

Men want what they can't have. If Leon could have me, would he want me?

_Who would want an emotional train wreck, Ada? You're not normal. Kennedy is cheerful, warm, probably wants a family. Wouldn't he be happier with someone closer to him in personality that was willing to give him that? You swore years ago you'd never reproduce, you'd never force on anyone what your mother forced upon you—a childhood of loneliness and being forced to raise yourself because no one else was around to do it. What if you were with him and you disagreed on something that important? Do you really think it would last?_

I touched my cheek and found it damp. "Damnit." I whispered. As Leon stirred, I quickly hid my face in his chest, praying he would fall back asleep.

"Ada?" His arm closed around me and I forced down a wail. I hadn't cried in years, and suddenly it seemed every unhappy thing in those years was pressing behind my eyes and deep in my throat, trying to claw its way out. Forcing down those feelings took everything I had, and when he said my name again and raised my eyes to his, I couldn't do anything to resist.

"Ada?" He gently rubbed away a damp trail on my cheek, "Ada, what's wrong?"

It felt like time froze, giving me an eon to take in every worried line in his face, and the horrible, horrible sad tint in his eyes from thinking he might be the cause of my tears.

"Damnit, Kennedy!" I shouted then buried my face in his chest. "DAMNIT!"

----

Well, this wasn't going as well as I'd hoped. I've managed to make her cry. Ada. Cry.

I shifted, sitting up slightly so I could pull her in a little closer. "Ada… did I do something?" I cradled her in my arms. I'd had women cry on me before, you just let them cry and eventually they either stop or tell you to go to hell and you don't hear from them for a long, long time, but usually I didn't feel anywhere near this helpless. I wanted to help her and kiss her tears away, but unfortunately the kissing would probably lead to something else, which is probably not what she needed right now. No, painkilling sex is a definite guy thing. Think girl, Leon. Think girl.

I touched her cheek and she jerked away, hiding her face, and I tried my best to ignore a tendril of panic that ran through my chest. "Ada," I stumbled over her name and felt her press further into my chest. "What's wrong?"

We stayed in an awkward weepy silence for a while, and after wracking my mind for something to say, decided to try humor. "I wasn't that bad was I?" I asked.

Ada's head snapped up and she glared at me, looking beautiful despite the combination of rage and tears. "Kennedy, think with something besides your penis!" She buried her face in my chest again, and then added, muffled, "no, you weren't bad." She paused, and then added softly, "Very good, in fact."

I started to ask what was wrong a second time as Ada sat up, unfortunately gathering the sheets around her as she did. "Get out." She said. "The rain stopped. Get out."

"And if I told you I refused to go?"

"Then I will kill you and leave your body for the wolves." She replied, and then hurried to the shower, leaving me sitting in stunned silence.

I yanked on a pair of jeans and, being the idiot I was, let my surprise and hurt boil over into anger, as is the manly, and stupid, thing to do. I tried the knob on the bathroom, and when I found it locked, slammed my fist into the door. "What the hell, Ada!" I shouted, "What the hell! Every single damned time we meet you're like this, you lead me on and torment me and then just run the hell away, you coward! You don't give a damn if I go or if I just die, so long as it keeps me the hell away from you, do you?" I glared at door, silent but for the sound of running water behind it, and trying to ignore that hurt was creeping through, even under the rage at my being dragged close and shoved away again. "I know for a fact that there's no window or way out in there! I'm going to stay here until you come out and face me!"

I crossed my arms over my chest, intending to brood until she finally did come out, but after fifteen minutes, the anger had faded, leaving me my hopelessness and the fact I felt like I'd been drug over a field of nails. I crept over to the door and pressed my ear against it. The water was still running in the shower, but it didn't sound like anyone was using it. She was avoiding me, and I couldn't say that I blamed her after my earlier stunning display of maturity and emotional control.

I sighed and leaned against the door, letting my forehead rest against the wood. "I'm sorry, Ada," I said softly, "but do you have any idea how much it hurts to be pushed around like this? I thought that if we just weren't on opposing sides when we met we might have a prayer, but apparently I was wrong. Chalk it up to rookie idiocy and my being 'stupidly optimistic.' I think you called me that at one point." I listened a moment, hoping to hear a laugh. When none came I stood away from the door, deciding to just be glad that she wasn't actually here to see me looking this heartbroken and pathetic. "I'll go, Ada. If we ever cross paths again, I'll pretend this never happened if you will. I'm sorry."

"I just wanted to be with you, maybe even make you happy, stupid me." I retrieved my shirt from the bed and cast one last glance back at the closed door. "And for the record, you were great too. Amazing." I said. Still Nothing. "I feel sorry for any other man that ever falls for you. They'll really learn what it feels like to be chewed up and spit out."

As I opened the bedroom door to leave, the bathroom door edged open. I was blocked from Ada's view by an enormous wardrobe and moved behind it, nudging the door shut, before I could stop myself.

Ada came out in a soft-looking white bathrobe, and her still damp hair shone polished ebony in the graying light from the window. I was honestly amazed when she started muttering to herself. The Ada I knew would have had a knife to my throat by now, able to sense another human being in the room with her instantly, regardless if she could see them or not.

"You think this easy, so easy." She gathered up her discarded garments from last night and threw them in a wad into a half-empty suitcase. "You wouldn't want me. I'm not stupid; I'm one of the most damaged individuals you'll ever meet. I'm not good with people, hate children, live for my missions, and will use seduction if needed to get the job done." She walked over to the window, disappearing mostly from my field of vision. "Relationships are the missions I always fail."

_How on earth can you know if you won't even _try, _Ada?_

"Kennedy, I'm not a dimwit. I realize you're there. My offer still stands. Take the woods or a knife, I don't care which."

"You do care which, or you wouldn't have said what you just did." I put on the expression I used on missions, a mixture of stubborn resolve and audacity.

"I said it because I'm an idiot, Kennedy!" She crossed her arms over her chest, eyes fixed on the fast clouding sky. "Just get out."

"Why?" I asked, taking a few steps toward her. "Why should I? Ada, just give me one honest answer why I should, and I'll go! You'll never have to see me again!"

"Because you screw up every single thought process I have, Kennedy, and I can't _think _to give you an answer!" The way she dug her nails into her arms, holding herself as tightly as possible, I half expected to see scarlet appearing on white. "You're like poison, a drug that makes my mind just—" She ran her hand through her hair, "You have too much power over me! I can't deal with it, damnit, leave! Get out, Kennedy, damn you, please!" Her hand slipped down to her eyes. "Just go."

I didn't have any other choice.

"You can hide your face," I whispered, circling my arms around her waist, "But, Ada Wong, it does you no good to try and hide your tears when your shoulders shake and give you away."

I caught her in a kiss as she reeled around to argue with me. It was a cheap trick, and has probably used in bad romance novels quite a few times, but it works. I'm all about what works.

I expected her to try and push me away again, to scream at me to get out, but after her lips left mine, she collapsed against me, her shoulders actually shaking this time. She swore a blue streak at me through her tears, but she didn't try to leave. It felt good, knowing she didn't try to get away. I was probably the only man in her adult life she'd shed a tear over, and I wasn't about to take that for granted. God knows, I'd downed enough shots of tequila and spent enough lonely nights angry with myself because of her. Angry I hadn't said this or that, angry I didn't chase after her, angry I always let her get away without explaining herself.

I edged across the gap to the bed, Ada still in my arms, and picked her up and sat down, putting her on my lap. I pressed my lips to her forehead. "I love you, you know."

"Shut up, Kennedy, it's too early for that."

I grinned. _Fine, be stubborn. _"I really like you, then?"

"That," She discreetly ran the sleeve of her robe across her eyes before looking up at me, "I'll accept."

This was my first venture into Resident Evil fiction and my first attempt at writing for other people in a long, long time. Please review. Even if it's just one word, knowing someone is actually listening to my chattering makes it all worthwhile.

And if anyone can tell me how to make indentations stick in documents uploaded to I would be very, very grateful...


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